Off Topic Tuesday: Greatest beers in the universe

Multiple Poop readers took notice when I name-dropped Pabst Blue Ribbon in the Evian Les Petits post yesterday, which took me by surprise. Considering how many times I mention PBR in this blog and in the newspaper (here’s a recent example … here’s another), I thought it was extremely clear how much I obsess over this beverage. I’m kind of surprised PBR hasn’t called The Poop and offered to become a full-time sponsor.

coedmagazine.com

It was love at first sight.

Since I’m totally not joking, I’ll make it clear to any doubters that I don’t think Pabst Blue Ribbon tastes fantastic. But considering how tolerable it is, when compared to the price, it’s nothing short of a miracle. (Yes PBR people, you have permission to use that in your literature. “Nothing short of a miracle!” -Peter Hartlaub, San Francisco Chronicle.) I get the same feeling around PBR that I do when I’m looking at a row of planes at the airport, and wonder how it’s possible for these unwieldy metal contraptions to get off the ground. How can this beer be so cheap, and yet taste so not horrible, and still get me good and buzzed? Is alien technology involved?

I buy PBR much more rarely now, because while I’m broke, I’m not that broke. When I do, I usually pay between $4.49 and $4.99 for a six-pack, and it’s much cheaper per-unit for a 12-pack or 24-pack with cans. The Chronicle’s local bar has it on tap for $1.50 during happy hour, and I also run into a PBR keg once in a while. I’m a huge NOFX fan, and more so after tagging along with Joe Garofoli (who was working on a story about Fat Mike) and discovering that the band keeps a PBR keg in the VIP area.

I’ve already given away one-third of my beer awards, which I’m dividing into “good” beer, “cheap” and “super-cheap.” I’m only choosing from beers that are readily available in local supermarkets and BevMo, not some craft beer I drank once in San Luis Obispo in 1992 or the homebrew my brother-in-law makes on his boat (although both could make the list). As always, please add your own opinions in the comments.

Good beer: I go through different phases with this one. I’m currently on a big Pyramid Brewery Hefeweizen kick. I love the Gordon Biersch Blonde Bock, will order Guinness when I can get it on tap and occasionally have a taste of this more obscure Brazilian beer called Xingu. But no matter where my drinking moods take me, I always come back to Samuel Adams in a bottle. It has such a distinct full amber taste, without the bite that you get from a lot of craft brew beers. A lot of bars screw it up on tap, but I’ve never had a bad bottle.

oregoncatalyst.com

One hell of a brewer.

Cheap beer: Of the Big Three — Budwieser, Miller and Coors — I’ll take the latter. But that’s like saying if I had to get kicked in the testicles by a stilleto heel, a steel-toed work boot or a sandle, I’d definitely go with the Croc. There are so many better cheap beers, most of which are made by the Germans and Mexicans. I like Tecate a lot, but the most underrated beer in the world is Carta Blanca. It usually costs the same as a six-pack of Bud, and it has the smooth unassuming and reliable flavor that you want in a cheap brew. It’s the Honda Civic of beers.

Cheaper beer: Easily my biggest challenge as a college student was discovering a good ultra-cheap beer. We drank some God-awful brew on this quest, most notably Brew 102, which made us wonder what the first 101 tries tasted like. There was a tolerable ultra-cheap beer in a bottle called Golden Crown, which tasted OK but led to two-day hangovers. For a while we drank malt liquor, although that was mostly part of an I-want-to-be-more-urban phase. And then PBR came into my life. Like all great love stories, I remember every detail: It was a keg in the corner of a yard, where a really bad punk band called Puddin’ Skin was playing. The cup was clear and the beer was a light golden brown, and the foam swept over the side and spilled onto my hand as if to say “hello.” You complete me, PBR.